


Fifty-Two Names For Snow

by keenquing



Category: Pushing Daisies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-06
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 08:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keenquing/pseuds/keenquing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love-Margaret Atwood</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty-Two Names For Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for help_haiti from the prompt of 'snow' and addressing Ned and Chuck's relationship post 'Kerplunk!'.

_Flump!_

It took Ned a moment to realize the source of the cold, stinging sensation that started atthe back of his head as he was walking up to Lily and Vivian Charles' door. It felt dimly familiar, reminding him of the days he had spent watching the news of the 'lonely tourist' who had been killed on the cruise; unable to figure out why he was so fascinated with her story when he didn't know who she was. Then he heard that same lonely tourist, who was no longer lonely, giggling from somewhere behind him. Ned smiled, even as he rolled his eyes, and turned around to see Chuck wiping the powdery remains of the snowball from her gloves.

“I should have been expecting that.”

“You really should've been expecting that.”

Their words tumbled over each other awkwardly but not unpleasantly. They smiled sheepishly at each other, then Chuck took a few steps towards Ned.

“Do we have to go back right now?”

Ned was going to say something about there being no one at the Pie Hole and how when it was cold people wanted pie. However, the way Chuck looked at him made him reconsider, just as he had when she had asked him if it was really okay for her to go tramping around Europe with Lily and Vivian for several months while he minded the Pie Hole, if he wanted her to stay.

He had.

He knew how much it had meant to her though, and the look in her eyes told him that staying here just a bit longer meant something, though he didn't understand what. He took her hand in his and even while he was thinking about how forced his smile had been on that day, he was also thinking about how he couldn't feel his glove or Chuck's glove, but only her hand in his.

“No.”

Chuck beamed, and as Ned thought about how much he liked winter and not just because it drove people to the Pie Hole for warmth, she pulled him forward to walk through Lily and Vivian's yard. They walked quietly, feet crunching through the snow-covered grass and minds whirling. Or at least Ned's mind was whirling, and he assumed Chuck's was doing the same.

He was thinking about snow. About a younger Chuck hiding behind the corner of her father's house, waiting for a younger, unsuspecting Ned much as she had waited today. Of sadder snowy days spent wandering the streets calling Chuck's name or watching her father drive away because of him. With his car (he was still a bit bitter about the car). How on two snow-filled days he had broken Chuck's heart. He would have gladly let her throw a thousand snowballs at him for that.

Tangled in the jumble of happy and sad memories, it took Ned a few minutes to realize that Chuck was quiet. On days like this, which could be so loaded with joy and sorrow, her silence scared him. So he nervously cleared his throat, hoping that breaking the silence wouldn't be the wrong move.

“Ah, Chuck? What are we doing?”

Chuck was quiet for a bit longer, and just as Ned was wishing he could suck those words back into his mouth, she let out a loud sigh.

“I don't know. I just don't want...” she waved her free hand. “ _This_ to end.”

“This?” Ned knew he shouldn't be confused, but he was. Apparently, Chuck wasn't surprised because she just laughed a little.

“Vivian made me a pie. Apple, with Gruyère in the crust and a little candle on top.”

“Oh. _Oh_.” Ned wanted to hit himself with a snowball then. Of course. Chuck's first birthday since she'd been alive-again that hadn't been overwhelmingly tinted with sadness. The first with her aunt, and the mother who had once been her aunt. Ned knew she must have also been thinking the days when she had found out about her father's death and when he'd gone, but that today had shoved those events to the back of her mind.

“So it was good, then?” he said, pathetically. Chuck nodded, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah.” Without looking, Ned could tell she was tearing up a bit. “Lily, she got me a new pair of gloves. She said she hoped you weren't allergic to both me _and_ wool. Then Vivian said she hoped you weren't allergic to latex.”

Ned managed a tight laugh at that. He still wondered how much the sisters believed the story they had been told; about Ned developing a horrible allergy to Chuck, who had been forced to fake her own death because of the man who had been after the golden monkeys. Maybe Vivian believed it, but he doubted Lily did. That didn't matter right now, though.

“Lily cried,” Chuck continued, sounding closer and closer to tears herself, even though she was obviously overjoyed. “Her eyepatch was soaked. She blamed the dry air.” She turned to Ned, smiling. “You should have come.”

Ned broke his hand from hers, slipping his arm around her shoulders to pull her close. “I'll come next time, when we hire a new waitress.”

Chuck laughed, hiccuping a bit. “No you won't; I know they make you nervous.”

Ned almost started babbling about how of course Lily and Vivian made him nervous, but Chuck's next words silenced him. “I just...I keep thinking that this is all a dream. That I'm going to wake up—or, well—that I'll be _dead_ again and this is just some bizarre hallucination or something. It was—they were _happy_. They were smiling and Vivian even laughed once. Staying here....” she waved at the house. “I just want to hold to that feeling for a little while. Okay?”

Ned smiled softly. “Okay.” He turned Chuck's face up, delicately wiping the worst of the tear streaks from her face with his gloved thumb. While he held her, an idea came into his mind. He had to tamp down a mad grin as pulled away. “Close your eyes.”

Chuck started to say something, but Ned put his finger against her lips. Chuck rose an eyebrow, then shrugged a little bit and closed her eyes. Ned almost-reluctantly let go of her and walked away.

Several minutes later, he called her name. Before Chuck could track the source of his voice, there was a rapid _woosh_ , followed by a _flump!_ She whirled around, rubbing her shoulder, and wrinkled her nose when she saw Ned's grinning face peeking out from behind a shrub. Then she knelt down, scooping up a handful of snow, and ran towards him.

The Piemaker and the girl he called Chuck darted through Lillian and Vivian Charles' yard for the better part of an hour. They, like the two women watching through the upstairs window, were no longer thinking about death or abandonment or lies, or even the running of pie shops and the coming night. They were thinking about how lucky they were to have this day and to be able to share it with the people they loved.


End file.
